You must login to vote
How It Happened
It’s hard to find the words to use to describe what happened, for I still don’t even fully understand what happened myself. But I was there when it did happen on that fateful night in London, 1883. It happened to me. My name is Willem Smith, and this is my story of how I saved hundreds, by telling the time.
It was my small clock making shop, midnight, and I was finishing up my last clock for the night. I was the only place open; all of the street lamps had been put, aside from a few. The guards were in their homes, and the carriages had ceased long ago.
Now there was nothing-unparticular special about this night; no fog or rain, no eerie storms of any sort. It was just me working away in the back of my cozy little shop.
I was placing a few new gears in a gold embroidered wristwatch; one I had estimated to be worth a good one hundred dollars. I had first laid hands on it the previous day, but it was December, and everyone was trying to order things and have things fixed for the holidays, and it had been placed in the back. To be precise for those who are really curios, it was December twenty first; my birthday. That was another reason for my want to get home.
So I was obviously working fast; not carelessly, but fast. I was needing one last gear. I turned to my gear drawer, grabbed the gear and turned back to the table. That’s when it happened. When I went to turn I knocked my lamp over. The table that I was working on set to fire.
I dropped the gear and ran for a towel. The fire was put out in a few short minutes; according to the clocks on the walls. I picked the tweezers back up, and began to place the gear in the watch. The next thing I knew was I was lying on the floor remembering nothing but a white flash of light.
That’s all I can tell you about the scene. I’m sorry for lack of information, but remember, I’m still quite intrigued on the situation myself. I do know that when I awoke it was morning, everyone bustling to the places they needed to be. It was snowing. I was quite dazzled and dazed at this.
My head felt like it was swollen three times its size. I tried to stand up. With every step I began to take, I nearly collapsed. I decided to get some fresh air. Walking around would be good for my head. I decided that my good friend Charlie Resnich, owner of Charlie’s café, would be good for me.
I walked through the now packed streets of London, not getting any bizarre looks; which was comforting…meaning I had nothing wrong with my outward appearance. It was a laborious trip to struggle through the crowd. That’s the way it always was.
I strolled into the café at eleven, with it nearly empty.
“Willem!” Charlie called from behind the counter.
“Hey Charlie. How’s the business?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s fine,” he replied, setting down his broom. “What happened?”
“What?” I asked, examining my clothes. “What do you mean?”
He pointed to my head.
“Your glasses; they’re hanging by one ear. How did you not notice that?”
I felt my face. To my surprise, Charlie was telling the truth. I removed them from my face to find that I could see clearly without them on.
“Are you all right?” He asked, examining my face closely to make sure I wasn’t really hurt. Feeling my forehead to make sure I was feeling all right.
“So what happened?” Asked Charlie. “There hasn’t ever been a time you came here just for a cup of coffee,” he added.
“Well, something happened to me last night,” I said, trying to gather words in order to tell the tale. “It was an elaborate thing, yet so simple. It’s hard for me to explain, when there’s not much to explain about.”
But I began to tell the tale, the same way I told you. Word for word.